A Tiny Gale in Time
by The Last Gamgee
Summary: A wounded girl...a mysterious man. What is her secret?


The sounds of the forests filled his ears as he rose from the brush; blue eyes watchful and bow steadied. The elven man surveyed his surroundings with the keen-ness of a hawk. Every sound, chirp, snap of a twig, all of it flowed into his ears and to his mind. Shadows danced among the trees, their leaves rustling in the warm wind that blew through them. The tall grass swayed and tickled his flesh through the leather-bound pants he wore, made for hunting and battle. That was what he was doing now; hunting. Battle too, really. He was hunting the few remaining Orcs that resided in his fair wood. No, he wouldn't have that for a second. Not the Elven Prince.  
  
A snap in the brush instantly alerted him to danger and he drew his arrow in mid-breath, aiming it for the trees. His eyes observed the greenery around him, making out individual shapes of birds, some game, things like that. These things were all exotic colors; blue, red, yellow...the rabbits were a soft brown blur as they darted in and out of the bushes. Fawns often grazed with their mothers in the luscious new spring grass, their dotted fur like a splash of variety and color in the unchanging green and brown world.  
  
His breath hitched when he spotted a black shape, though not irregular. His eyes narrowed and his fingers tightened over his arrow. Black did not exist in this world, in his forest world. Foreign. Enemy. Unnatural. Orc.  
  
He was about to release his arrow, feel the feathers of it brush the slender curves of his fair cheeks, when a sound in the brush before him stopped his hand. A shape rose quickly before him, and he stepped back in shock. All he saw was a swift flash of brown and a gleaming blue before him, an arrow tip, fingers, a bow, an arm, a body, long hair.....  
  
The person before him turned to him in one quick movement, about to attack. The figure stopped itself, realizing that the person before it was not its enemy. The Prince's eyes narrowed as he stared into this new person's blue eyes. He felt around for its aura. When he felt it, he stepped back. It was unfamiliar to him. Un-elvish, magical though. A strange kind of magic. A human, it was. Humans in his forest, indeed! Orcs and humans running about stirring trouble, what was all this?  
  
He gasped when he heard the soft thrum of a bowstring. He darted to the side, just missing an enemy arrow. It whizzed past his head in a deadly rush, making his skin flush red. He quickly reached out his arm and grasped the flying arrow in his hand with seemingly no effort and observed it. Its wood was rough, its tip was sharp and irregular, made in unskilled hands. The feathers were black and tanned colored, not of Elven origin.  
  
Or human origin, for that matter.  
  
The prince sneered and tossed the arrow into the brush, readying his bow and drawing his arrow, pointing to the trees. Orcs. Only Orcs made such ugly arrows and had such bad aim. That arrow had come from at least 30 yards away, and anyone within that range who could handle a bow at all would have been able to hit a decimal sized dot on his forehead with ease. His thin blonde hair blew in his face and he brushed it aside. `Stupid Orcs.' He thought.  
  
He paid no heed to the human before him, who had also readied his bow. Out of the corner of his eye the prince observed the bow the human held. It folded it its center, that was obvious. It was of elven make, as were the arrows. But how did a human get an elf's bow?  
  
The human turned around and stared into his blue eyes, it's own eyes gleaming in the sunlight. It smiled.  
  
The prince's eyes widened, and he looked beside himself. `Silly human, what's he doing?!'  
  
He released his arrow reflexively when he heard another bow string thrum in the distance. The whizzing sound it made came directly for the two hunters. The Prince dropped to his knees on the ground, ready to avoid it, but head a sickening thunk instead. The human cried out.  
  
`My God...' the elf thought, jumping to his feet. What he saw shocked the hell out of him.  
  
The human had cried out alright, and tears were streaming down its face. But it's features held no hint of pain or grimace. Instead the human wore an angry, annoyed expression. He turned around, facing the forest and growled. Then with one swift movement, tore the arrow that stuck in its back out with ease. The Prince gasped in horror. It was like the human had been shot with a toothpick!  
  
The human blew the hair out of its face and grinned, blood soaking through its garments and dripping down its back. It withdrew an arrow from it's (elven) quiver and in one fluid movement, mounted it, shot it, and shot again with another arrow. A choked shriek rang in the air from the direction where the arrow flew and the human smiled.  
  
`A girl...' the prince thought, glancing at the humans chest. His eyes narrowed. `She's a human girl.' He raised his eyes to hers and blinked. "Are you hurt, girl?" he asked, concerned.  
  
The girl's blue eyes twinkled and her very long, sfot-brown hair glowed in the sunlight. She smiled graciously and reached a hand back to her shoulder and withdrew it. It was bright with her red blood. "Yes, I'm fine." Her sweet voice rang through the stillness of the forest.  
  
Elven eyes met human ones. The Prince felt her magic stronger now. She had some sort of strange fairy magic in her, nothing like his own Elven magic. She was different from other humans, normally humans possessed no magic power at all. His full lips parted slightly in thought. This girl could change things if she truly wanted. He could feel it in his heart.  
  
The prince shook his head and sheathed his arrow. "The scent of your human blood in thick in the air. It hangs in my senses and is choking my perceptions." The girls face flushed angrily. He folded his bow and placed it in its sheath. "It does not seem like the nature of a human to admit it's injuries, so I doubt you'll heal them properly." He closed his eyes and turned from her. "I feel it it my fault you are hurt...."  
  
He turned back, his sapphire eyes gleaming. "Come with me." He said, holding out his hand.  
  
"Why?" the girl asked in an unsure tone, her creamy brow quivering. She seemed to be angry. The prince knew she would never accept his help. "What use have I for elves?!" she snapped, licking the blood off of her fingers.  
  
The Elven Prince smiled and swiftly grabbed her waist, lifting her off the ground kicking and yelling. And slung her over his shoulder. "You're hurt, and I can't leave you here wounded when there are still Orcs about."  
  
She was too shocked to really do anything other than succumb to his will. She felt his Elvish air around her and she shivered. She had never....touched an elf before. Not really. This sensation was so very new to her.  
  
The girl growled and hit his back. "Put me down! I can take care of myself!" she protested. "Just because I'm a human girl doesn't mean I can't mend my own wounds!" her face flushed and she sighed, settling down a bit. "Do you think you owe it to me or something?" she asked softly.  
  
She felt the Prince nod and rolled her eyes. "Yes, I do, young one." he replied.  
  
"Why do you keep calling me `young one'? I'm not that young! And you don't look that much older than me!" she snapped. Then, realizing her error, she covered her mouth shamefully. She felt silly. She had forgotten that elves can be thousands of years older than they look.  
  
The Prince just shook his head and continued on, brushing away green branches and stepping over logs, making his way through the wood.  
  
The girl looked down and spotted one of his small braids resting on his shoulder. She reached out with a delicate finger to touch it's silkiness. Elven hair, she heard, was like air, it was so light and soft. Her blue eyes closed and she shifted her weight uncomfortably. "Why do I have to be slung over your shoulder like shot game?" she complained. "It's uncomfortable, your shoulder armor is hard, Sir Elf." She spat.  
  
"Don't be so quick to curse me, girl." The Prince warned. "I don't want you bleeding in my arms. And besides, you have more than one wound, don't try to deny that."  
  
The girl's face reddened and she coughed uneasily. "W-what do you mean? I just have a tiny hole in my shoulder from that stupid Orc arrow." The Prince laughed heartily, his voice vibrating through his body, making her flesh tingle.  
  
"I can smell your blood from you shoulder." He said. The girl nodded.  
  
"Yeah, I thought we had established the fact that my shoulder is bleeding!" she argued.  
  
"And I smell the blood from several other wounds on your back and that small wound in your arm...and the one on your side." He stated coolly.  
  
"So what!?" she griped. "They're healing on their own! It's not they're bleeding....all that much..." her speech slurred and the Prince smiled. It sure didn't take her very long.  
  
The girl rubbed her eyes and stared at the trees around her, watching as they all melted together like water slashed over a green oil painting. She felt afraid now...but very tired.  
  
"What's...going on?" the girl murmured sleepily, resting her head on his back. Her eyelids grew heavy and her vision was clouding over.  
  
"You're bleeding too much, and you're losing your strength." The elf sighed. "That's why I'm taking you to my home to heal you with our medicine."  
  
"Oh.......mmm-kay...." She whispered wearily, falling into a deep slumber.  
  
The Prince shook his head and smiled. `Silly girl.' He thought. `She'll be better tomorrow, I'll see to that.'  
  
He looked over his shoulder at her face, which had fallen sleepily, emotion gone from it. His blue eyes surveyed her strange human features. `She certainly is a fiery thing, though.'  
  
'Funny...she reminds me of a pet.'  
  
His footsteps hardly made a dent in the dry-dead leaves on the forest floor as he walked on, lithe body floating along like air, the branches of bushes around him barely moving as he moved though them like a cat, disappearing into the greenery. 


End file.
